Insight from a self destructive entity.

Category: Addiction

There is no deeper wound then the one inflicted upon you after losing someone you love. To know they are out in the world giving someone else their gazes, tongue, fingers, cock, smiles, and I love yous. It’s a wound that quickly festers….and when left untreated it can become fatal.

Within the first few months of dating Matty I had used….Like a moth to flame I found myself very close to ruining a wonderful thing before it had even begun. Disgusted with myself unable to look in the mirror I decided to come clean to Matty right away. Prior to this he had no clue about my addiction…..slight omission on my part. Before confronting him I took a pair of electric clippers and shaved my head. I needed a change some type of symbolism that I was shedding this fucking snake skin and diving head first into being the person who he deserved. It wasn’t easy looking into his eyes….telling him I let a guy blow me so I could hit his meth pipe. I was fully prepared for things to end right there….but they didn’t. He forgave me…..I truly didn’t deserve him. I wonder if he wishes he hadn’t, if he considers this one of his biggest regrets? I told him it would never happen again, that I loved him and he was worth staying clean for…..and so I did.

For three years Matty and me would be a WE or an US. I loved saying WE. WE WE WE WE WE ……..I could say it all day. (Insert snooty upper class Gwyneth Paltrow esque accent) WE will see you for dinner. WE’RE staying in tonight. That isn’t going to work for US Becky. The singular identities that were Alex and Matty had melted away and WE had been transformed into coexisting entity of coupledom. WE were a disgustingly cute couple too; WE shared each others clothes and had date nights. Nights off were spent cuddling on the couch watching our favorite shows together. For a long time I felt as though the old Alex the one who had become addicted to meth, who had caused his parents so much turmoil and grief, and been capable of such selfishness, had been nothing more then a bad dream. Unfortunately that fantasy of burying who I was just that! Fantasies of a boy who didn’t realize just how far gone he already was.

I think the biggest lie couples sale themselves and others is that their relationship is perfect. We truly do ourselves and others a huge dishonor by comparing happiness to perfection. Nothing and no one is perfect….and neither will your relationship be. There’s going to be moments where you absolutely hate the person your with. They will do something to piss you off and make you question what in the exact hell you see in them. It’s in these moments that true love (Not Lust) is formed. Because true love is seeing the things you hate in someone and loving them anyway. I truly loved Matty, his annoying traits soon became cute little quirks. His insecurities became endearing. I believe Matty loved me….but not fully, not the entirety of me. I think there were parts of me that he was embarrassed by. I had dropped out of high school and hadn’t made any real indication of finishing. We shared a car because I didn’t have one; I drank heavily, no real goals or aspirations. I really don’t blame him! He was about the only good thing I had going for me.

In short I was basically a loser. But I had potential, potential Matty saw in me and was determined to drag out even sometimes by force. Matty got me hired at Starbucks, further proving that he was the root of my coffee addiction. He encouraged me to get my GED so I started classes, all at a snails pace. After two years of being together we were faced with a tough decision. My father and mother were going back to Atlanta for dad’s work. I was still living with my parents and was faced with a choice that was utterly terrifying. Leave Florida, leave Matty …..Or stay and attempt to make it on my own. Neither I nor Matty wanted to part from one another, so we decided to take the next step in this love story and get our own place. I wish I would have left with my parents….If I would have known how royally I would fuck things up I would hop in the nearest DELOREAN and altered this little fork in the road. Maybe then me and Matty’s ending would have been bitter sweet. Instead we would lie and betray one another, cheat, and I would lose my self in mourning in alcohol and drugs.

I don’t know if you ever were kissed by true happiness…. If it ever caressed your cheek or smiled at you from across the room. I have…..it was mine and it was all I ever wanted but I wanted more.

After the mess that was my teen years in Georgia, My father announced to us that our family was moving. It would be a fresh start in a fresh state and a cure to all our problems. I resented this decision because Georgia was all I knew. We had summered in Florida every year since I could remembe so it wasn’t a complete mystery to me. (Doesn’t that just ooooooozzzze with white privilege) Still there is something about the unknown and I ….we are not friends. Florida would be the birth place of my full blown addiction. It would be the state that I lost pieces of my soul …. The hopeful romantic, the boy who saw good in all people and thought he could do anything he set his mind to….He died there. Not all at once, no it would be a slow death bit my bit. Still there was one silver lining to Florida; it’s where I found love.

Love is tricky……no matter how many sappy love stories we are exposed to over the years nothing truly prepares you for the moment you come face to face with it. I was completely caught off guard when it found me. I was 19 living in Florida, a full year into my fresh start from all the drama that had transpired in Georgia. I had just gotten off work and walked across the street to meet a girlfriend of mine at the neighboring Starbucks. Things truly do slowdown like in those horribly unwatchable teen romance romps of which I’ve seen all a hundred times (guilty pleasures). Boy met boy, he was a barista working behind the bar. His smile was overwhelming and I had never seen someone as warm and inviting. I was completely dumb founded by his beauty. I’m pretty sure my mouth was hanging open when he acknowledged me and asked if I wanted a drink. I was not fond of coffee; I had a bad incident a year prior involving a cup, my birthday, and anxious bowels. I ordered one anyway, and today I hold him completely responsible for my coffee addiction.

Sitting down, coffee I didn’t want in hand, I quickly questioned my girlfriend on the identity of this Mystery Barista. Luckily for me she had all the dirt. His name was Matty and he was just a year younger then I was. He lived one town over and we had many mutual friends. That was all I needed to know, I was going to make it my mission to become quickly acquainted with him. Turns out our mutual friend Brian was his best friend, the two were completely into Wicca and Witchcraft…….Ok well there are weirder things…….a few episodes of Charmed later I felt like an expert. All I needed now was a reason for me and Brian to need a 3rd and what better reason then a spell.

A few days latter we had plans to conduct a completely unprofessional spell to bring good fortune or some shit. Only two things were accomplished during that spell.

Two: I got some amazing one on one time with Matty…..well with Brian near by.

Brian was truly caught up in the spell while I was caught up with Matty. We chatted and joked the entire time. Talking to him was extremely easy. I know things went smoothly when invited me to watch Charmed with him later that night. I fained complete ignorance regarding the show saying I had never seen it (WINK). I arrived to his house a few hours later. It was a beautiful home and he introduced me to his beautiful mother and they had two beautiful cats ….everything was beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I felt completely inadequate. I pushed that thought out of my mind and reminded myself that he wanted me here. We went to his room, it would be the first time of hundreds I would enter it. This room would be a home to so many memories we shared.

It’s where we would make love for the first time. I have never been so nervous in my entire life; it was and probably shall always be one of my fondest memories. The nervousness and anticipation, the moment we undressed one another, it wasn’t two horned up teenagers going at it. No it was two people connecting and melding together. We got ready for his senior prom here…..matching tuxedos(Gay…but adorable). We would fight in this room, make up in this room. I would watch him sleep here sometimes for hours because I couldn’t believe how lucky I had been to have him. Just feeling his breath against my neck. But all that would come much later because on this night all we did was watch Charmed (I hate this show btw ….well not entirely)…..he watched while I started to fall in love.

First kisses, first sleepovers, first disagreements, first almost breakups, first declarations of love, there were many firsts those FIRST few months. Everything was fresh and the world was in rhythm. I was so Happy. No other first was better then the first time he told me he loved me. In Florida the rain is a constant, sometimes it comes and stays for hours and others it’s a brief hello. Matty and I were coming home from some function when it started to rain. A light cool drizzle was all it was. We exited the car but instead of dashing for the door Matty stood there in the rain and just smiled as the droplets bounced off his angelic face. Let’s play in the rain he said…..I hated the rain, how it made everything cling to you. How it ruined perfectly beautiful days. He ran up the street and I followed, finally catching up to him. I was about to scold him on how silly he was being but he took my face in his hands and he kissed me…..There was no rain, no air, no breath, just him and me. He pulled away and said those three little words.

Three years later……I sat in our apartment, tears flooding my eyes, packing my things….NO our things. Matty sat on floor next to me no emotion….this was the end. I had finally lost him. My world crumbled all around me and no amount of love could salvage what we had built….it was my fault. The first piece of me died in that room…

I was born with a gift. I can take any happy situation and form it into something ugly. I can suck the life from these bliss filled moments like an alcoholic suckling the last of his vodka out of an empty bottle, I feed off the drama. Taking what is considered to be a joyous occasion and turning it into my own crisis is my latent mutant ability. In short I self destruct…..the human being side of me wants to be happy for other’s happiness but the addict side wants their happiness for my own.

My sponsor has asked me to document the moment I realized I had a problem, the problem being drugs and alcohol. I pondered this question for many days; I was never good at being self aware in my younger days. There was always something or someone else demanding my attention. I never truly focused on me and my needs my wants. I healed by drinking or snorting away my pain. Even though my habit had directly caused me immense pain such as the lost of my job, friends, dignity, my rape, etc. I still didn’t really believe I had a problem. I was convinced I was going to fix it.

You would think after overdosing and being hospitalized and hearing trained professionals tell you in exclamation points!!!!!! YOU HAVE A PROBLEM!!!!!!

(One nurse truly wrote that on an assessment form)

I would realize, hey maybe I do have a problem. Not me though, I had it all under control. These kinds of self delusions only work when no one who loves you is around to witness the problem. Self imploding states away from family made it pretty easy to down play my “Situation”. My parents knew there was a problem and they knew I needed help. Moving me into their house in Ohio put my little “Situation” under a microscope. It wouldn’t take them long to figure out I had absolutely no grip on my problem. In fact my problem was covered cooking oil and my hands had been dipped in lube. I couldn’t even touch my fucking problem.

It was the night of my cousin’s wedding that the spotlight would bring into focus just how far into the deep end of the ocean I had plummeted. For the occasion my entire family had drove or flown into Ohio to help the happy couple celebrate, including my older brother Matt. To say I idolized Matt would be putting things lightly. He was the perfect big brother. He teased but never to the point of cruelty, he was supportive. When I came out and had gone missing on one of my drug benders my older brother and a friend volunteered to go looking for me. I remember coming home terrified of what he would say to his little gay brother when I had finally returned. A few light hearted gay jokes and full acceptance is all I have received from him.

Unfortunately due to no fault of his own seeing him during those times all but reminded me that I would never live up to him. He was athletic, charismatic, self sufficient, and well liked by almost everyone. I was the family mess up and being in his presence just made my shortcoming glisten with hues of never going to change brown, and always going to fuck up grey. The morning of the wedding we all put on our Sunday best, me, my father, and mother and Matt. We stood there the four of us a family ……butI didn’t feel like I belong. These people were strangers to me….and I was a stranger to them.

I learned that day just how long a Catholic wedding is. It was Game of Thrones long, Order of the Phoenix long, last day of school long, but beautiful none the less. I watched these two people who truly loved each other do the ultimate act to show their love for all to see. I was blinded to it though, all I could see were the things I would never have. I would never walk down the aisle with the person I loved more than life waiting to take my hand. My family would never be in attendance crying tears of joy. A horrible thought entered my head……. I would go to many more of these weddings. One day my brother would get married, my other cousins, but in that moment I knew it would never find me…..not with the way I was at least. Such a potent feeling of loneliness swept over me. Every part of me hurt.

At the reception I felt like I had a target placed on my back, eyes filled with pity found there way upon me. It was like everyone there knew what I had just discovered, that I would never have this. I found my way to the bar and decided to drown this feeling with as many drinks as it took to turn this frown upside down. But drink after drink it wasn’t working…..I didn’t feel any better. I was surrounded by smiling faces, by friends and family, and it was suffocating. I found my way to a photo booth with happy couples taking photos together making lasting memories. One of my cousins stepped out of the booth with her family; she quickly insisted we take a fun photo together. A few pink feathery boas’ latter and we had taken a very tasteful yet hilarious photo. The booth spit out our picture and I starred at it. I didn’t recognize the person standing next to my pink feathered cousin who was so filled with life. His face was swollen from all the alcohol. He had huge black bags under his eyes from all the partying. He looked……empty.

I fumbled drunk around the reception for the rest of the night. Being told more than once enough was enough, but I needed more alcohol I needed to escape to flee into its abyss. I blacked out at some point and found myself being awakened by my parents opening the back seat of the car telling me we were home. My pants were wet, probably from piss. I could tell the evening had soured by the tone in my parents voices. My mom demanded I shower and go to bed. My father and brother sat in the leaving room quiet. I made my way into the bathroom and shut and locked the door. I turned the water as hot as I could g and stood under the water as it lightly burned my skin until I was a bright pink color. Out of the coroner of my eye I saw it sitting on the edge of the tub. A razor someone had left in the shower…..I didn’t even hesitate. The blade found my skin in an instant.

I blacked out again……my father and brother had to break open the bathroom door. I sat in the shower, the water had gone cold. Naked my dad pulled me out and covered me with a towel my Mother just kept asking WHY! I had no answer. I awoke the next day down stairs on the pull out sofa. My older brother Matt had slept down stairs with me the entire night to make sure I was ok. There was no more hiding, no more saying I was fine. “I didn’t know it was this bad” he said. I held back tears and told him I didn’t know it had either. I was sick…..sick in the head and the body. Broken…..It was that morning that I realized nothing was going to get better not on its own. My brother sat with me for most of the morning and I realized that I wasn’t alone….and I had never been.

I want to start with a quick update since it has been awhile since my last post. Strangely things are good! I just finished the Vivitrol program and I would give it a solid B+. I would highly recommend it to any one who has the strong desire to change but just needs a little extra help getting there. The main thing to realize is it’s not a cure….it will help you with cravings but it doesn’t eliminate them completely. But for me it was that little push I needed to give my body and mind some much needed respite. I have a new found sense of focus and determination that I didn’t have before.

Now onto the post.

It’s my firm belief that all of Earths creatures from the rats in the sewers to the bag lady at your corner grocery store have one thing in common and that is the secret need to be loved. No matter how much some of us do protest it’s factored into our DNA (PROCREATE) or in my case (SODOMIZE). We are searching for that one person to complete us or at least tolerate us long enough to boink. As if the journey to find said person to love/boink isn’t hard has it is throw being an addict into the mix and you might as well become a priest or nun and give it up to God…….he has to love you right?

The main issue dating is that no matter how long you’ve been clean or in recovery the moment you say the words “I AM AN ADDICT” all they picture from that point on is you sticking a rusted needle in your arm. Not a sexy picture. So two bad things happen! One you’ve just lost this potential person you’ve risked being honest and vulnerable too. Second you’re once again defeated by your addiction.

Skip to your friends saying “Your better off” Blah “He just doesn’t know the real you” Blah “They’re out there just keep looking” Blah blah blah blah. In reality all I can think about is because of my shortcomings I’ve lost out on something. I’ve had this happen a few times now in the last few months much to the dismay of my Therapist. She believes dating adds to stress, which could lead to anxiety, which leads to drugs, which leads to the dark side. So by her standards I should sequester my self to the life of self discovery and healing NAMASTE.

I don’t think I should stop looking for love because I’m not in a perfect place. I mean if they can’t accept this part of me than they’d be rejecting a major portion of why I am the way I am. I’m also not blind to the fact that dating me is a major fucking gamble. It’s definitely not the stuff of fairy tales to find out on your 3rd date with someone that they an addict. I just wish guys would give me the chance to show them that I’m so much more then just that.

I sometimes wonder days after I’ve been ghosted, by what ever guy I was dating, if I should have withheld the details of my addiction until further down the road. I’m quickly reminded of my promise of honestly. Honesty is why I’m in recovery. Honesty is how I was finally able to look myself in the mirror and not turn away. It set me free and without it I would still be in denial about the truest part of my self and that is I AM AN ADDICT. I’m also a hopeless romantic ….I have dreams sometimes that this man with no face is looking at me as I tell him this and instead of recoiling or running he smiles and takes my face in his hands and says “ You could be a murder and I’d still love you”.

My main focus will always be on staying clean its my forever short term goal but I never want to give up on finding that person who completes me. I know he’s out there …..Hopefully he’s not too short though because that’s just something I won’t put up with.

Its never easy writing down ones mistakes. Chronicling ones miss-steps, and wrong turns is no pitcher of sweet tea. More like a salt water cleanser…..it can be a little hard to swallow. So apologies for taking so long to get back to this particular event.

So there it was, I had just gotten high for the first time. It was euphoric, pure ecstasy. Every single inhibition, every shed of insecurity had melted away. I loved it, and it loved me. This love affair would go on for the next five years. It would start off innocent at first but quickly morph into something more sinister. I would see and do things that will haunt me for rest of my life.

I continued seeing J (aka The Man Who Stole the World) every chance I got. I skipped school and he’d snag me up for the day. It wasn’t always drugs, sometimes we’d just go to Atlanta and walk around the park, or we’d watch movies or play video games. Other times he’d contact me in the middle of the night….those were the drug times. I, a fifteen year old boy, was purely satisfied just to be in his company. As much as I enjoyed my high state my parent’s voices still bounced around my head “drugs are bad.” I’d always feel the rush of guilt during so I decided I didn’t need to be high. One night when he pulled out his baggy of meth I told him I was good.

“I don’t want to do it alone” he would tell me.

“You’re so much sexier when you let go”.

“I guess I could just take you back home”.

I wanted him to love me, I wanted him to want me, going home and being away from him was not an option. Once while we were high J ran out of drugs. He was coming down hard and was in no mood to stop. His face became sullen, his mood sour. We found the nearest wifi hotspot and he found a score pretty quickly. We drove to Buckhead and wound up at a pretty ritzy hotel. I questioned what was going on and he just grabbed me by the face and told me to trust him. We entered the hotel and darted towards the elevator dodging the front desk staff. We arrived on a middle floor and he knocked on one of the room doors. Inside were many naked men engaging in all sorts of sexual behaviors…..The rooms owner was a handsome middle aged man who smiled and ushered us in.

J held my hand as we entered. My heart was pounding and I was a mix of excited and nervous. On a night stand with a swanky lamp laid a plethora of drugs….J quickly took his dose as our host introduced himself to me. He told J he had done really well and couldn’t be happier with who he brought. I didn’t understand what he meant, but of course was flattered he liked me. The men in the background took me in with their eyes, each handsome if not a little old for my taste. Our host handed me a drink and informed me it was filled with some GHB. I sipped it and quickly fell into a bit of a haze….I melted and became relaxed and aroused; I felt a sense of power and desire.

I became engaged in my surroundings; one of the men asked me exactly my age. I had known it was smart in these situations to lie and lie I did…..”Eighteen” I told him. Quickly J spoke up “He’s fifteen”. I shot him a look, I had never told him my actual age and here he seemed to have known I was lying the entire time. I was mortified but no one seemed bothered by this declaration. I was sure I would be asked to leave but instead our gracious host sat next to me and started to undress me.

When the night came to a close J was handed a wad of cash and more drugs upon our exit….”I added a little extra, I just love it when you bring me cute boys”. The word boys played over and over in my head. The way it rolled off his tongue just felt wrong and dirty. Here this man whom I fell in love for had just pawned me off to a group of sudo pedophiles for drugs and a little cash. What hurt more and still haunts me to this day is I wasn’t the only BOY he had handed up on a platter. I tell myself I knew what I was doing that I was in control but what if the others weren’t. Things with J should have ended right there but my infatuation was in full swing and no harm had actually come to me. No….the true harm would come later……….

Salvation is fast approaching……I may be over dramatizing a bit but for me salvation is what this drug could bring me. Vivitrol is a monthly shot given to people dependant on alcohol or heroin. What is Vivitrol?

Vivitrol is one of the newest medications available and can treat both opiate and alcohol addiction. It blocks other opioids from acting on the receptors in the brain and can also help ease drug cravings. By blocking the effects of other opioids it takes away the pleasurable effect, which can help with preventing relapse. Although it is not fully understood as to why an opioid antagonist works in treating alcoholism, it is believed that Vivitrol blocks the pleasurable effects of alcohol by blocking the release of endorphins caused by alcohol. This treatment can help you stop misusing opioids and alcohol and, when combined with counseling, can help you rebuild your life.

There you have it but to me it’s so much more than that, its injectable hope. I’m fast approaching thirty and my options for recovery are wearing thin. I’ve done rehab, I’ve tried AA, twelve steps, prayer, wicca, meditation. Hell I’d rub horse shit on my body if I thought it would help. I don’t want to enter my thirties with this looming over me soaking up all my potential and happiness like a thirst-full sponge. So here’s hoping this works, here’s hoping it gives me the extra strength I need to finally beat this. I have so much more than just this drug though; I have so many people on my side. They are tethers holding me down from floating into the abyss.

Over a year ago I had reached one of my darkest moment. With all my self destruction I never ever thought of ending it all. I always had a will to live; I’ve only ever contemplated suicide once. I had almost a year and six months sobriety under my belt when I threw it out the window for a night of fun and release. It was a weekend my parents had gone away to visit my brother in Florida and left me in charge of their home. So what did I do with that trust? I put it into a blender and pushed crush! Every thing I had worked so hard to build was decimated in one night. It was during the “come down” that I took a hard look at myself in the mirror and couldn’t stomach what was reflected back at me. I went to the kitchen and grabbed a steak knife and pressed it against my skin right along the same scars I had inflected so many times previously. Only this time I wanted to do more than hurt myself……I wanted it done.

But I decided I ultimately wasn’t done fighting; I quickly picked up my cell phone and called someone to help me. My first tether is my dear friend Becky. I’m not sure she will ever know the gratitude I will always hold for her. Without hesitation she dropped everything and rushed right over. She sat with me without judgment or contempt and just talked to me. She later went home and grabbed her things and stayed the night and instantly brought me back to a sense of normalcy. I laughed and cried with her, and was reminded that even though I had thought of the unthinkable……I still had so much in my life to live for. Becky has always been one of my major supporters she is such a wonderfully good person and just having her around me makes me feel inherently good as well. She saved my life that day……

In the weeks after I would make some hard choices that unfortunately would lead to holes left in my life. Toxic friendships were released but not easily, I would find myself lonelier than ever and being a social person I needed friends but I would need to be more cautious on how I made them. Previously I had made all my friends the good old way by going to the bar. It was time for a major shake up. In the Dayton, Ohio area I had heard of a group of gay men that would meet up a few times a month to discuss safe sex, gay culture , and other various topics. The best part of this was it was in a safe environment where drugs and alcohol were not aloud. I decided what the hell let’s give these losers a shot. I was sure I’d do one meeting find them utterly boring and never return.

When I walked into that first Mu Crew meeting I had no idea what to expect. I couldn’t fathom the friendships that were in-store, the support I would be given. I would soon gain countless tethers , countless brothers. They would welcome me with open arms, be phone calls when I was feeling down, reminders of why I am working so hard, role models, teachers, lovers, inspirations. They opened me up……helped me embrace the real me, the me free of drugs and alcohol. It’s been only a little over a year since they’ve been apart of my life but in that short time I’ve experienced so much all while being sober ! Thank you boys.

Life is to hard and to short to go it alone. We need people to help make the journey. Alone we are weak but together we find strength. I have many more tethers as well…….Family and friends, coworkers, customers, my dogs. I have so many lighthouses shining their lights and showing me the way…..but it was only when I was lost in darkness that they became apparent to me. I going to use every weapon in my arsenal to combat this….Not only the Vivitrol but also all of you. Thanks to all those in my life who believe in me.

A lot has happened recently, I’ll start with the hardest and that was a relapse. It’s hard for me to put into words the disappointment I feel but it happened and on the grand scheme of things it could very well happen again. I pray and plead that it won’t…..I’m most upset that as a result I shut my self off. I lost myself in self hatred and doubt when I should have been reaching out to friends and family. It’s hardest to face those who believed in you…who you promised this was it and you were finally done.

I learned from my therapist, whom now I have complete trust in, that I am a binge user……. I’m not dependent on everyday use , in fact my body wont even crave it on a daily basis. Instead it builds and builds and builds until the cravings start to overflow and overrun. Most addicts have to fight off cravings every single day….a constant battle to stay clean with constant reminders that they are in fact fighting for survival. Since my cravings seem to build overtime there’s a grace period where I feel completely normal…..and it’s in that period when I let my guard down …. that’s when I’m most vulnerable to relapse.

Recently I had not one but two people question if I was even ready to quit. At first I was pissed off. Of course I was ready to fucking quit. Id been trying for years and I’ve done everything possible, but then I could see their reasoning’s behind the questions. Had I really tried though, did I truly want to be done? Does someone who truly wants to be done falter over and over. What if deep down in my guts I wasn’t ready. It was a truly terrifying thought. I quickly began to think about all that I had lost due to my addiction……my youth, innocence, my body, pieces of my soul, friends, trust………belief in myself.

I am ready to quit……….

Recently I also met someone. He’s been in my life for more than a year now, but it only recently turned romantic. I know starting relationships during this time in my recovery is risky, but for me waking up and choosing not to use is a risk. I take risks going to the grocery store, the wine just so happens to be right near the ice cream. Everything I do right now is a risk……I found beauty in his flaws, and power in his strength so I decided he could be worth it.

It was a short romance……..we had what I thought was an amazing date. We just sat around and talked. He had gotten me to open up in away I had been unable to. We were so different but at the same time we seemed so similar. We both have darkness but we refused to let it consume us and we both had things we were fighting to prove. When the date was over he left me a journal so I had a tool to get out all my feelings…..he encouraged me to keep doing this blog. When he looked at me I felt like he was seeing not who I was but who I was striving to be. It was silly but I really could see myself with him but we seldom get the things we want. A part of my recovery is being an open book. I will not shy away from mistakes or hide them…..so when I once again relapsed I not only knew I had to tell him but I also wanted to. I felt safe with him and desperately needed reassurance…….

Quickly I sensed a shift one that I’ve been used to and had experienced many times. He wrote me a nice long heart felt text…..put simply that I wasn’t worth the risk. Truthfully it’s human instinct, self preservation. He had his own problems and was afraid we’d weigh each other down. The only thing sadder than the lion killing the wounded zebra is when it kills the other one trying to protect it. So that was it……he couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t sure they even wanted to get better. I saw red flags too, I had my doubts, I knew it wasn’t right but I thought he was worth it…. the risk. I see now what an utter waste that risk would have been. He didn’t believe in me….. but I do.

We relapse alone….but we recover together, that’s what the brave people in my recovery group say. It has been such an amazing experience hearing their stories and knowing I’m not alone in this. They believe in me, my family believes, and my friends. These are the people who I need to focus on the ones who refuse to doubt me….I will not lose hope for recovery and for love. I believe that they are intertwined…..I want to open the door for one while closing the door on the other. No one can tell me I don’t want to get better….I want it more than the air I breathe. I want it so badly it hurts me all over and haunts me while I sleep……..

I’m meeting with my therapist about a radical course for treatment….one that may finally get me on a straight path to recovery and I’m willing to try anything now…..because it’s worth it.